


Saturday Night

by Nephir



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, F/F, F/M, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9609791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nephir/pseuds/Nephir
Summary: A cafe, a woman, and a man.





	

She comes to this place nearly every week, to sit with coffee and write. The owner likes to display art from unknown artists and this week’s display is some blatantly erotic sculpture. She enjoys the faces of the window peepers as they spy the statue in the window. It is a nice piece; the artist has gotten the expressions on the faces down really well. The fact that it is a woman sitting astride a man in coitus and in the throes of a powerful orgasm is only icing on the cake in her opinion.

Tonight, however the cafe is different. She had heard about the private Saturday night parties, but had never actually gone to one until tonight. Many of the people that she sees in the cafe weekly are here, but they have on different faces tonight. There is a palpable energy in the room, sexual tension she mused. The air smells of many people, all excited and fear. The fear is what pushes her hunger over the edge. What would they think of her true face she wonders idly, as she sizes up the room.

She watches couples go into the basement and other come up stairs, a dance with out music. One woman proudly displays the stripes on her back, marks of courage, or stripes of shame she muses. The woman is large, probably a size 24 and beautiful. Voluptuous, round, and pale, she would have been highly sought after in some eras of history, but in this era she is looked on as an aberration. Does she allow herself to be beaten to atone for her sin of being large? Or is this her way of allowing society punish her to atone for their own sins of discrimination…

In the door walks a former lover who she hasn’t seen in a couple of years. She frequently fantasizes about him still. He has the perfect bite she remembers. The bruises faded years ago, but the memory of night can still make her wet. He sees her and comes over to talk. They ask about each other’s spouses and children, but their banter is banal and strained, each searching for a way to break the ice. Why is it so awkward to talk to former lovers? She asks him if he has been in the basement. 

“Yes” he replies, “have you?” 

“No, I didn’t want to go down alone.”

He offers her his hand and pulls her to her feet. “Don’t be afraid, you can just watch if you want” he says as he leads her to the stairs. The air below is far more pungent, reeking of pain, pleasure, and sweat. It is dark, but she can see some chairs lined up like stadium seats, filled with people. They descend into the darkness, going slowly so that their eyes can adjust to the lower light.

The room is small and is packed with probably 25 people. There are chairs on two sides of the room and the other two walls are left open, so that the players have some working space. There is a man ties to an X shaped piece of wood and he is being whipped by a handsome young man in leather. The sounds of the leather straps striking his skin are loud in the room, as are his moans. On the other wall is a woman standing patiently by as her playmate creates a web of rope around her body, pining her arms to her side and preventing her from being able to do anything more than breathe. 

She thinks to herself that the rope web looks like nothing so much as a witches cradle, used for sensory deprivation. How intriguing. She begins to watch the audience, for this atmosphere is akin to a theatre and the participants seem to be actors in a strangely scripted play. The audience is enraptured by the sounds coming from the man tied to the X, as he began to near his completion, and several seem to find their release as he finds his. The one who wielded the whip releases him from his restraints, and they check in with how each is feeling and doing.

They ascend the stairs and someone else takes their place on the wall. The atmosphere is getting progressively heavier, and she is aroused by the sounds and smells. Her hunger wants to be slaked, but she is firm with herself, not now, and not here. She has to leave the basement, this was a mistake and she needs to get away now, before she exposes more than she should. Rising, she heads for the stairs, followed by her ex and many pairs of eyes. 

She steps outside the cafe and takes several deep breaths. Searching in her pockets, she pulls out her cigarettes and lights one, taking a deep draw of smoke into her lungs. The air is crisp and dry for a change. She turns to her ex, “disappointed?” she asks “that I wasn’t able to stay in there longer.” 

“No, but your reaction has me intrigued” he admits. “Why did you need to leave?”

“The smell of so much desire and sex in such a small room, it was overwhelming. I wanted to have you tie me to the X and then I wanted to be used. I wanted you to bite me, and to leave bruises all over my body with your mouth. Does that shock you? More than that, I also want to bite back—to mark my territory I suppose.” she said “may I bite you?”

He does not answer, but he doesn’t leave either. Fine, he has made his choice. 

His heartbeat is loud in her ears. She moves closer to him and pushes him against the rough brick of the wall. Running her hands op his arms and then across his chest, she can feel nipple rings. A part of her wants to twist and tug on them until he kneels at her feet, but once again she resists her inner voice. Her hands tug at his shirt and open the neckline up a little more than it had been. Leaning into him, she rubs her face along his neck, like a cat marking it’s person, and then she begins to kiss lightly along the cords of his neck. She finds his pulse there, and allows it to fill her mouth with its beat. A small taste is all she really wants, she will feed elsewhere later tonight. Her mouth and teeth scrape his heck, tasting the salt and soap from his bath earlier. Biting a little harder he begins to shift under her hands. Her tongue licks the spot where she will pierce the skin, and her teeth descend, a small prick, and his blood fills her senses.


End file.
